Pretty Girl
by KinseySix
Summary: I think I had a cerebral aneurysm just looking at her..." Ellie doesn't like being the new girl. The only redeeming quality is her. Femmeslash
1. Pretty Girl

A/N: I don't own Degrassi, or the characters. And I don't own Paige's outfit either, it's one I found Lauren Collins wearing in a picture on a Degrassi fan site. This story will contain some mild language later, and will be femmeslash. If this bothers you, please don't flame, because I'm giving you fair warning. And yes, this will be the shortest chapter of the story. The rest will be about twice this length.  
  
I rested my forehead against my locker door and closed my eyes, hoping I wouldn't be forced to rip it off its' hinges. Not how I wanted my first day to go. Not at all. No one seemed to notice me, though, which is the story of my life.  
"Need some help?" said a voice behind me, and I turned my head only slightly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a girl. I think I had a cerebral aneurysm just looking at her. She was only a few inches shorter than me, I'd say, but that was where any sort of similarity would have to end. Her honey blonde hair was hanging down over her shoulders, obviously straightened, sprayed, blow-dried, and gelled into submission, and her light gray eyes were framed by gold lashes and pale glitter eyeliner. She was smiling a sort of quirky half-smile. Her lips were the only thing that looked untouched, except for maybe some lip balm. Her clothes were unlike anything I'd ever catch myself in. Blue tank top, and a long sleeved shirt made of some thin, almost-transparent, gold material, with a tie in the front, with a pair of jeans. She leaned against the locker next to mine, and her shirt rode up a few centimetres. She had a belly button ring. Okay, that was our only similarity.  
"You must be new," she said. I nodded. She reached out and brushed a hand against my locker door, turning the dial slightly.  
"May I?" she asked. I nodded again and stepped back out of her way.  
"What's your combination?" she asked. I fumbled in the pocket of my pleated black and red plaid skirt for the piece of paper with my combination on it. Once I'd found it, I held it out. She pressed her knee against the locker door and pulled on the lock, dialling in the combination. She yanked down on the lock, and the door swung open. She handed me back the paper.  
"Thanks," I said awkwardly. I swung my backpack off my shoulder and hung it up on one of the hooks inside. I pulled out two notebooks and a pen, and closed my locker door. She was still standing there, looking faintly amused, half interested, and completely beautiful... I decided to name her Pretty Girl.  
"What class do you have first?" Pretty Girl asked. I opened my notebook to my class schedule.  
"English with Kwan, room—"  
"I know where it is. I'll take you, if you like," Pretty Girl offered.  
"Okay," I said. She set off down the hall, and I strayed a few steps behind her. It must have made me look like a stalker, but I knew enough about school to know that she wouldn't want to be seen with me if she could help it.  
"Kwan's a good teacher, but she's tough. Doesn't take any... where are you?" Pretty Girl asked, looking from side to side.  
"I'm right here," I said. She spun around.  
"Why are you walking behind me?" she asked.  
"Because it's always socially safer not to be seen with someone like me," I said. She rolled her eyes and hooked an arm through mine.  
"Hun, if I had a problem with being seen with you, you'd still be trying to open your locker. And by the way, you really got stuck with a bad one. You might want to see if you can trade for a better with someone," she said. My arm was on fire, but no one seemed to feel it. Pretty Girl didn't, because she kept it linked to mine all the way to Kwan's classroom.  
"What do you mean, trade?" I asked.  
"Well, every year some people get stuck with back lockers, or ones in hallways away from their friends. Since yours is actually a piece of junk, and not just in a bad place, you might have to throw something in. Like, a CD and your locker for a better one. I could find somebody to trade, if you like," she said.  
"Okay," I said. She led me into one of the classrooms towards the end of the hall.  
"Go tell Kwan that you're new, and she'll give you the books," she said. I looked around the classroom. It was a lot bigger than the ones at my old school, and there were tables instead of desks, but other than that, it was normal. I walked up to the teacher's desk. She smiled at me slightly.  
"Um... I'm new here, and this is my first class," I said.  
"What's your name?" Mrs. Kwan asked.  
"Ellie Nash?" I said, and I cringed. Whenever I get nervous, I phrase things as a question. It was my only bad habit. Well, almost only.  
"Welcome to Degrassi Community School, Ellie. Why don't you have a seat, and I'll get you your books, alright?" Mrs. Kwan asked. I nodded and scanned the room for Pretty Girl. She was sitting in the front with several other girls. No seat in sight. Besides, she might not hate me, but the same wouldn't necessarily apply to the rest of them. There was an empty seat in back, next to a slightly tanned boy. I couldn't tell if he was Hispanic or Italian, but I wasn't taking a survey on his nationality. I approached him hesitantly, and he didn't look up from his notebook.  
"Sorry, but is this seat taken?" I asked, touching the back of the chair next to him. He looked up, then at the seat, then at me.  
"No, it's free," he said, smiling. If everyone here smiled all the time, and not just at the new girl, I was going to move away just as fast as I'd moved to begin with. I sat down slowly, pulling the chair in more.  
"I'm Marco. Marco Del Rossi," he said.  
"Ellie Nash," I replied. Marco leaned one elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand.  
"So, Ellie Nash, where'd you move from?" he asked.  
"Just the next town over. Not far. My dad's in the military, so we move a lot, so I'm used to it. My mom doesn't really work much, but she isn't home a lot anyways, because she's on a bunch of committees, and—" I felt my face heating up. "Sorry, I'm kind of babbling. I just haven't met a lot of people here," I said. Marco grinned.  
"It's okay. Didn't you come in with someone though?" he asked. I nodded.  
"Who was she?" Marco asked.  
"I don't exactly know her name," I said. Mrs. Kwan appeared at my shoulder, holding out a small stack of books.  
"Here are our books, Ellie. You'll need them covered by tomorrow. You can find someone to find out what we're learning now, right?" she said.  
"I'll help her," Marco offered, grinning at me.  
"Thank you, Marco," Mrs. Kwan said, and she returned to her desk. I glanced over at Marco.  
"Is she always like that?" I asked.  
"Like what?"  
"Like... one of those really strict people who talks really fast and expects you to already know everything?" I said. Marco laughed.  
"Pretty much," he said.  
"Before I forget," I said. Like you could do if you tried. "Who's that girl over—"  
"Okay, class, today we'll be reading some more out of Lord of the Flies. If you could please turn to page fifty, Hazel, can you start us off?" Mrs. Kwan said. I flipped to page fifty in the book, and wrote a two on my notebook. Number of times I'd tried to find out Pretty Girl's name. I planned to keep count until someone got around to telling me.  
Hazel, apparently, was the girl sitting next to Pretty Girl. I wish I were Hazel. Halfway through class, Pretty Girl opened her notebook and started to write. Mrs. Kwan was obviously deeply enthralled in the cannibalistic pleasures of Lord of the Flies, so no one noticed. Except me. Once Pretty Girl had finished, she tugged the page out of her notebook and folded it up. And dropped it. I wanted to pick it up for her, but if there was one thing that could seriously qualify as 'stupid', it would be ducking under my desk to pick up a note and hand it to her, because I know which one of us would get in trouble.  
Pretty Girl didn't seem to mind though, because she simply pressed the toe of her tennis shoe over the note and slid her foot back. She moved to the edge of her seat to slide the note further across the floor. Until her foot his mine. She straightened up and glanced back at me while pretending to find her spot in the book. The edge of the note was now tucked safely under my boot. I picked up one of my pen and started to tap it against my knee. After a few seconds, I let it slide from my fingers onto the floor. I bent to pick it up and shoved the note up the bottom of my sleeve. I straightened up and glanced around. Marco was grinning and shaking his head slightly. He evidently saw me, but I didn't care. I unfolded the note in my lap. What are you doing after school?  
My heart might have stopped. I'm not sure. I wasn't sure if it was because she was asking, or because I knew what I was doing, and it (to my sudden dislike) didn't involve her. I uncapped my pen. Probably unpacking some, I wrote. Why? I folded it up again, following the creases Pretty Girl had made. I glanced over at her. Her right arm was at her side, palm facing up towards me. I slid the note off the edge of the desk onto her hand, and she started to unfold it. She paused, looking at Hazel, who, having finished her turn at reading, was watching her with slightly raised eyebrows. Pretty Girl shook her hair out of her eyes and read the note, scrawling a reply on the bottom. She tore the note silently in half (I'd have to ask her how to do that) and folded it. She waited. And waited.  
For at least five minutes, she waited. Hazel turned her eyes back to the book, and Marco seemed to have forgotten. Pretty Girl looked down at my feet, which were stretched out on either side of the chair. She leaned to the side slowly until she could grab my shoe. She straightened back up, still holding onto it. I propped it up on the edge of her seat as she untied it as fast as she could, before anyone would notice. Once the laces were undone, she pressed the note against them and retied the shoe. She released my foot and I pulled it back under my desk. No one noticed a thing, which surprised me greatly. It had been less subtle than before. I pulled my shoe up onto my other knee and yanked the note from under the laces. I glanced at Marco, who was still reading along to the new voice—Johnny, was it? Jimmy? Something like that, I didn't care. I unfolded the note. Paige Michalchuk. 555-6122.  
I folded the note again and shoved it in my pocket. So Pretty Girl had a real name. I wasn't surprised, just... maybe I liked thinking of her as Pretty Girl.  
  
A/N: I'm looking for a beta, as I mention in my profile. Check there if you're interested, because I'm stupid and need all the help I can get. And I know Paige and Ellie's note-passing is very unlikely to go unnoticed, but I used to do that with a friend, so it must work somewhat. 


	2. Bruised and Broken

A/N: Yet again, I don't own Degrassi, the characters, or the Dot, which makes a lovely appearance. Thanks to those who reviewed, especially orange crush3, who made me feel very special. And I wanted a beta so I can make sure I don't mess with the actual show, like make Marco's hair... I dunno, yellow. Oh god, that would be terrible... but the position is still open, for that reason.  
  
I picked up the cordless on my way through the foyer, and brought it up to my room. I closed the door and sat down on my bed, unfolding the note Pretty Girl—Paige. Unfolding the note Paige had given me. 555-6122. I dialled the number and waited. After three rings, someone picked up.  
"Michalchuk house," said a boy's voice.  
"Um, this is Ellie Nash. Is Paige there?" I asked.  
"Yeah, I'll get her," the boy said. I heard him setting the phone down and yelling for someone. There was another click from what I guessed was an upstairs phone, and the phone the boy had been on hung up.  
"Hello?" Pretty— Paige. Paige.  
"Hi. It's Ellie Nash. The new girl?" I said. Paige took in a short breath.  
"Sorry, I think you have the wrong number," she said, and the dial tone sounded in my ear. I stared at the phone.  
"Hello?" I said. The dial tone kept going, one long continuous beep. I threw the phone down and flopped back on my bed. The phone rang. I rolled off my bed and snatched it up.  
"Hello?" I said.  
"Hi, Ellie. It's Deanna."  
"Oh," I said. Deanna was my best friend from my old school. She laughed.  
"You sound happy to hear me again. What's up? Have a bad day at school?" she asked. I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against my knees.  
"Nope. I just thought you were someone else," I said.  
"Who?" she asked.  
"Just a guy a met today. His name is Marco," I sighed. I'm such a liar. Deanna laughed, and I heard her switching the hands she was holding the phone in.  
"Somebody's in love," she said.  
"Yeah," I agreed. Oh. She meant with Marco.  
"Is he cute?" Deanna asked, and she laughed. Why? Did I say something?  
"Marco? Yeah. I sat next to him in English, and he let me sit with him at lunch. He's really cool," I said.  
"So? Did you ask him out?" Deanna asked.  
"No! I just met him," I said. I could see her rolling her eyes.  
"Ellie, you're hopeless. So... did you meet anyone else? How's the school? Sorry, I forgot the name of it," she said.  
"Degrassi Community School. And there's no one else," I said.  
"Oh. Well, tell me if you meet anyone else," Deanna said.  
"Okay. Listen... I've got to go. I'm meeting Marco at the park," I said. I hung up before she could say another word. I can't believe that the first time my best friend calls me, I lie to her about everything. The phone rang again.  
"Eleanor! Who keeps calling?" my mom shouted from downstairs.  
"Deanna!" I shouted back. She always liked Deanna. Deanna was normal. She wore jeans and bright t-shirts. She didn't wear eyeliner or plaid skirts or black or... well, she wasn't me, and Mom liked that.  
"Hello?" I said.  
"Hi. It's Paige," said a voice on the other end.  
"Oh? I thought I had the wrong number," I said. I wasn't angry, even though she'd completely blown me off. I was embarrassed that I'd thought she'd want to talk to me. Ellie Nash. I knew the labels that went with that.  
"Look, I'm sorry," Paige said.  
"Why'd you do that? Did I do something wrong?" I asked.  
"No, you were perfect!" Paige protested. I stopped breathing for a minute.  
"So why'd you do it?" I asked again. There was a short pause.  
"Hazel was here. And so was Ash, and Terri. They're not exactly like us, you know?" she said.  
"Like us? You mean a self-absorbed princess and the socially unacceptable new girl? You're right. They aren't like us," I said. I grabbed a pen off my nightstand and started bending it. Paige sighed.  
"I said I was sorry," she said.  
"Prove it," I snapped.  
"Okay. Do you know where the Dot is?" she asked.  
"A better question might be do I know what the Dot is," I said.  
"It's a restaurant. Not that far from school. Everybody goes there. Meet me there in like, five minutes," she said. The pen snapped and covered up to my elbows in ink.  
"Make it ten," I said, and I hung up.  
I scrubbed my arms for seven minutes, using every type of makeup remover, cleanser, and body scrub in my bathroom, by my skin was still gray. I settled for a pair of elbow length arm warmers and pulled my sleeves down over them anyways. My fingers still showed, but they barely had any ink on them. And I was running late.  
I had no idea how to get to the Dot, and it still only took me four minutes to find it. Congratulations, Nash. Paige was sitting in a booth near the back with a bunch of people from school. She was sitting next to Hazel, but I didn't recognize most of the other people. Wait. Marco was sitting with them. Just my luck; I befriend someone who is friends with her, and she won't even talk to me. But she looked at me. The rest of them noticed, and all swivelled around to look at me. Marco grinned and waved me over. I looked back at Paige. She looked positively terrified. I shook my head at Marco and walked over to the counter to buy myself a latte. Marco, however, was apparently an insatiable little brat, and joined me at the counter.  
"Come over and meet my friends," he said, taking hold of my elbow. I held my latte in my other hand in case he pulled me too hard. I paid four bucks for a cup the size of my fist. I think I got screwed.  
"No. They're not my crowd," I said. Marco rolled his eyes and tugged me across the restaurant.  
"Guys, this is Ellie Nash. She's new," he announced to the table. There were two other in the booth besides Hazel and Paige; both boys. There was a chorus of 'hi Ellie'.  
"This is Jimmy Brooks," Marco said, pointing to the black boy. Jimmy nodded to me and murmured a 'what's up'.  
"This is Spinner Mason, but you don't want to know him," Marco said, nodding to the other boy. Spinner looked offended.  
"Hey!" he said.  
"Ignore him, he speaks without saying anything. This is Hazel Aden," Marco said. Hazel smiled at me and waved. Marco nodded to Paige.  
"And this is Paige Michalchuk," he said.  
"Nice to meet you," she said, more to her glass of soda than to me.  
"She's normally not this weird. So, Ellie. Want to sit down?" Marco asked, resuming his seat next to Spinner. I shook my head.  
"I've got to get home," I said.  
"Aw, come on, El. At least stay while you finish your latte," he said. I set the full cup down on the table.  
"I've got to go, Marco," I said firmly, and I whirled around and left. Along the back of the building, there was an alley. I had no idea where I was going, but it was certainly away from there. I was halfway through the alley when I heard someone call my name. Heard her call my name.  
"Ellie, wait!" I turned around. And she was Pretty Girl again. As soon as we were alone, she was Pretty Girl, not Paige. As soon as we were alone, she was perfect.  
"I can't believe you," I managed to make myself say. "That's the second time you've screwed me over in half an hour! I don't want to—"  
"I do," Pretty Girl said. Want to what? I wanted to ask. I wonder if she could hear my heart beating too.  
"I don't know what you—"  
"Please give me one more chance, Ellie. Just one. And if I screw it up this time, I'll leave you alone," she said.  
"Would you stop interrupting me? I'm not going to give you another chance! You've already had it!" I said angrily, and I spun around and started to walk. She touched my arm to try to stop me.  
"Please, don't walk away from me, Ellie, I want to—"  
"Talk? Meet up? We've already tried that, Paige, and you always seem to find a reason to blow me off," I snapped. She grabbed my hand and pulled me back around to face her. Only thing is, she must thought she wouldn't be able to, because she kept walking. And in one second, I found myself pressed up against Pretty Girl, and, in my attempt to yank my hand away, I had dragged her arm back, almost around me. Had I been shorter, our noses would have been touching. My entire body caught fire, and I could feel her breath against my neck, and her hand had fallen into mine, and I couldn't breathe, and my knees turned into water, and I staggered back before I fell into something I'd never be able to drag myself out of.  
"Ellie," Paige whispered.  
"I have to go," I said, and I stumbled back a few more steps.  
"Ellie, wait," Paige said. But I was already running. I was running, but I couldn't seem to leave her.  
  
A/N: Okay, I lied. It wasn't longer. I think it was shorter... but this just seemed like a good place to end, so I did. Please review. You know you want to. 


	3. So Beautiful

A/N: I know I haven't updated in a while, but I'm going to take a bit of a break from Pretty Girl. Only a week or so, because I've been working really hard on a Sean/Marco story (don't ask). By then I'll be ready to work on the rest, and give you some of the Paige/Ellie action you're begging for. smiles  
  
The next morning at school, Paige didn't speak to me. Or look at me. I doubt she even thought about me. Amazing. I meet a girl who can make me go into cardiac arrest just by touching me, and she's pretending I don't exist. Fantastic.  
Marco seemed not to notice that anything was different, because he still sat with me at lunch. He chattered inanely for a few minutes before he stopped mid word and leaned forward.  
"Look, Ellie, I've been rambling for fifteen minutes and you haven't said a single word. If I know anything at all, it's that Paige followed you when you left the Dot yesterday. Are you going to tell me what happened or not?" he demanded.  
"I'd give you ten points for bluntness, but you seem to have taken your time getting around to it. Nothing happened," I said.  
"Liar. Tell me," Marco said.  
"Marco. I swear to you on this piece of chocolate cake, nothing happened," I said. The cake came with my meal, otherwise I wouldn't have it. I'm allergic to chocolate. Apparently Marco wasn't, because he seemed satisfied finally.  
"If I ever find out you're lying to me, I'll make you kiss Spinner. And that is the worst thing I can think of," he said.  
"Evidently some people don't think so," I said before I could stop myself. Because I could see Paige sitting next to Spinner, and she was leaning on his shoulder. I wish I were Spinner. Marco rolled his eyes.  
"Paige acts like that with everyone. All flirty, with stupid nicknames," he said.  
"Not everyone," I said. Marco paused, his fork halfway to his mouth.  
"Are you saying that because it's true or are you saying it because you aren't everyone?" he asked. I pushed my tray at him, feeling sick.  
"I'm done. You can have the cake," I said. I swung my backpack onto my shoulder, probably almost hitting someone with it, and tore out of the cafeteria. The hall was empty, which didn't surprise me, so I sank onto the floor in front of one of the lockers. Her locker, I realized a moment later. It made me want to laugh, but what came out was a choked sob. I tilted my head up and stared at the ceiling.  
"Is this some sort of sign?" I asked coyly. There was no reply, because I was the only one in the hall. I elbowed the locker sharply, and a tingling pain shot up my arm. IT faded after a minute, so I straightened my legs out and busied myself folding the pleats in my skirt. With about fifteen minutes left to lunch, she came out of the cafeteria. Well, technically Spinner, Hazel, Jimmy, and Marco came with her, but I wasn't noticing them.  
"Um... El? Are you okay?" Marco asked slowly.  
"I'm fine," I said, but I was still crying.  
"Are you sure you're okay? You can go to the office and have your mom pick you up," Marco said uncertainly.  
"I'm fine. By the way, Paige, if anything fell off the door in your locker, sorry," I said. I then buried myself in the confines of the girls' washroom and sat on the counter, banging my heels against the wall behind me. Once I'd gotten myself under control, I reapplied my eyeliner in the places where it had been washed away, and went back to my locker. Marco was there.  
"Ellie, if the reason you were crying was because of what I said, I'm sorry," he said before I could speak. I grabbed him by the shoulders and moved him to the side.  
"I'm fine now, Marco, that's all you need to worry your pretty little head about," I said through somewhat gritted teeth. I pressed my knee against the locker door and dialled in my combination. The door swung open. Paige taught me how to do that. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. How long would it be before this went away? I opened my eyes and glanced at Marco.  
"I wasn't this crazy in my old school," I said. Marco laughed.  
"I hope so. So... do you want to come over after school? We can talk," he said. I shook my head, grinning slightly.  
"You're the only guy on the planet who likes to talk. Sure. I'll just follow you home, okay?" I said. Marco nodded.  
"I'll meet you here when the bell rings," he said, and he headed off to... I didn't even know his classes. I blinked at my locker. I didn't need anything from it. I slammed the door and headed to science. Paige was in that class too. So was Marco. Oh. That's where he went. I sat down next to him.  
"Guess what?" he said.  
"What?" I asked, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.  
"I have a note for you," Marco said, holding out a folded piece of paper.  
"And you couldn't give it to me when you were at my locker less than a minute ago," I questioned, beginning to unfold it.  
"It's not from me. It's from Paige," Marco said, rolling his eyes. I refolded the note and handed it back to him.  
"I don't want it. Give it back to her and tell her sorry, I hate her," I said. Marco took the note from my hand, but put it back down on my book.  
"No. She gave me the note to give to you. There was no 'And if she says she hates me, take it back because I accept refunds'. So take it, and read it. Or give it back, or throw it out, or whatever. Just don't make me go explain to Paige why I'm too much of a loser to get you to take the damn paper," he said. I glared at him, and tried to put the note in my pocket for several seconds before I realized my skirt doesn't have any pockets. Marco shot me a strange look, so I simply sat there through the entire class with the note in my lap. The bell rang, and I stood up.  
"Marco, could you tell Armstrong that I don't feel well?" I asked weakly, my hand on my stomach. Marco nodded.  
"Will you be alright?" he asked.  
"Yeah, I just want to go up to the nurse's office," I said. Marco nodded again and headed off to math. I took my time getting my stuff together and stayed in the washroom until the bell rang. Then I forged a note from my mother to the front desk, turned it in, and sat on the front steps with the note in my hand. At the old school, all of my friends would ask me to fake their parents' signatures, or write notes so they could get out early so they'd have six hours to get ready for a date, because I was the only one who didn't write in squished, fat, round letters. I guess it came in handy.  
I unfolded the note and smoothed it out against my leg until it was perfectly flat. I folded it back up, went to sit on one of the benches that wasn't in plain view of the front doors, and unfolded it again. Once I'd made it flat again, I set it carefully on my lap and crossed my arms. I'd lied to my only friend at Degrassi, forged my mother's signature, and skipped school to read this damn thing. It had better be worth it.  
  
A/N: It's a bit shorter, and the next chapter might be too, because there's a chance it'll only be the note. I dunno, I'm sort of improvising. 


	4. Bells, Music, Fireworks

A/N: Well, since you all asked so nicely, I'll update it now... actually, I have writer's block for my other story. I forgot to write in my last author's note, thanks to my beta Firevega21. My email isn't working, so I can't send you this chapter to read. Sorry! But I'll wait till it's working again so you can read the next chapter, okay? Okay, I don't own anything. At all. Here's chapter four.  
  
Dear Ellie, I'm sorry. I didn't want to hang up on you, and I didn't want to blow you off at the Dot, and I didn't want to have whatever happened between us in the alley. Except I did. I'm sorry, Ellie, but you've made me feel more stupid, shallow, guilty, and confused in seven hours than anyone else has ever made me feel in my entire life. The thing is, I like it, and I don't want it to go away, because if it does, you'll go with it, and I want you to stay here. Always. I want you to stay here. I want you to stop hating me. I want you to trust me. I want to get to know you and see if you're really as perfect as you seem. I want you to be the first to realize that I'm not perfect. I want you to think of me as me, and not just as Captain of the Spirit Squad Paige Michalchuk. And I want you to know that I think about you all the time ( failed a test yesterday because I wrote your name in every answer space, and by the time I erased them all, there wasn't any time left to write the real answers). And I want you to know that I had to buy a new binder because I wrote your name on the other one four hundred and eighty-three times. And I want you to know that I miss you when you're sitting three seats away from me. And I want you to know that I keep putting your combination into my locker instead of mine, so I'm late to every one of my classes. And I want you to know that I missed getting off the bus yesterday and rode three towns over before I could stop thinking about you long enough to realize what had happened. And I want you to know that I can't even sleep, because I've convinced myself that if I do, I'll miss the one time you'll ever call me to say you feel the same way. And I want you to know that you know me better than anyone else (even me) and I haven't even had a real conversation. And I want you to know that when you're around me, I hear bells and music and fireworks. And I want you to know that you'll never know this, because I probably won't ever be able to give this to you. And I want you to know that it's because I'm scared of what will happen if you don't hear the bells and music and fireworks too. Yours truly, Your friend, Your not-exactly friend, From, Love, Paige  
  
A/N: This is very short. But some of you seem not to care, so I'm just going to leave it at that, and now I'll take my break. Unless I cave under the pressure of reviews. Which you should write. (hint freaking hint) 


	5. Playing Games

A/N: It's a brand spanky new format, with spaces in new places! Hey, that rhymed... Many thanks to my loverly beta, Firevega21, who helped me get this format, because I'm special and couldn't accomplish that on my own. This chapter contains deliberate femmeslash. What do I mean by that? cackle Read and review.  
  
Neither of my parents were home when I got there, thankfully. I didn't feel like explaining why I'd forged a note to get out of school. I didn't feel like explaining Paige, or what happened at the Dot, or on the phone, or the note. I couldn't even explain the note to myself. It meant she felt the same way. It meant we could be together. And if we could, would we? She'd gone out of her way to make sure no one would notice the two of us together anywhere, not even over the phone. She'd been setting me up and breaking me. The more this thought loomed in my mind, the more it bothered me. I hadn't become her friend—or, to what felt like my dislike, anything more than her friend. I'd become the toy at her beck and call. She was controlling me and hurting me and she had no right to do that. So at the time school normally got out, I dug out the phone book, looked up her address, and walked to her house. I knocked on the door, and it was only when I heard footsteps inside that I started to panic. What if she'd brought Hazel and Ashley home with her again and I was going to be kicked out? What if she'd slam the door in my face, just like she'd hung up the phone? The door swung open, and my first thought was that it wasn't Paige. It was a guy, fifteen or sixteen by the looks of him, with curly blond hair and a welcoming smile. I wanted to hate him because right now I hated her, but I couldn't, because I didn't know him. "Is Paige here?" I asked. The guy nodded. "She's in her room. Up the stairs, take a right, first door on the left," he said. "Is anyone up there with her?" I asked quickly. "Nope," the guy said, and he retreated to what might have been the kitchen. The stairs were a little ways down the hall, and covered in peach colored carpeting. I went upstairs, to where there was more peach carpet, and down the hall to the right. The first door on the left was closed. I knocked. "Yeah?" called Paige. I pushed open the door. Paige was sitting on her bed, and looked up when I entered. She scrambled to her feet. "Ellie, did you read my—" "What is this?" I demanded, holding out the note. Paige stared at it. "What do you mean?" she asked. She seemed almost nervous, and I liked it. "I mean, what the hell do you think you're doing? Do you think you can just go around playing games with people because, oh, you're Paige Michalchuk, you're the smart and nice and beautiful and popular cheerleader, you can make the rest of the world do whatever you want," I said "Ellie, I never meant to play games with you," Paige said. "So the phone calls, and the trips to the Dot, and all those times you acted like you've never met me were just figments of my imagination? And I supposed you are too, because I must be making up something as perfect as you," I said mockingly. "Are you trying to tell me you hate me or make me feel—" "Feel what? Feel more—" I checked the note "—stupid, shallow, guilty, and confused in seven hours than anyone else has ever made you feel in your entire life?" "Ellie, I meant every word I said there. I don't care if you've got commitment issues or what," Paige said. I laughed hollowly. "Commitment issues? Me? You're the one who keeps breaking any plans we make! Tell me, Paige, if you hate me so much, why'd you ever come up to me the first day I was here?" I asked. "I don't hate you, Ellie. If you actually paid attention to my note, you'd know that," Paige said. "To which part?" I asked. "To the whole fucking thing!" Paige said. Screamed, actually. I heard the noise downstairs stop. "I shouldn't have to mold my life around your social standing. I can't help it if you're the most popular girl in school and I'm number one on the social outcast list, but if you feel even a fraction of what you say you feel, you'd find a way to make us work," I said. "There isn't any 'us', Ellie! We've never had a date or a conversation that lasted for more than four minutes! You won't even admit if you feel the same way!" Paige shouted. "Because I don't know if I 'feel the same way' because you won't lay out how you feel!" I shouted back. "I laid it out fine in the note! You're the one who won't tell me—" "I should think it's fairly obvious! I wouldn't have put up with you if I wasn't completely and disgustingly infatuated with you! And you're dodging the point of this whole conversation! I just told you how I feel, so now it's your turn!" I said. Paige grabbed my shoulders and pushed my back against her closed bedroom door. "You want to know how I really feel?" she snapped. "That's what I said, isn't it?" I said. She pressed me harder back into the door, so hard I could feel slivers poking through the back of my shirt. And she leaned forward and kissed me. If I'd thought I'd had brain malfunctions seeing her for the first time, it was nothing compared to kissing her. Every atom of my being seemed to explode at once, even though it wasn't even much of a kiss. The pressure of how hard she was kissing me hurt, and there was barely any movement. It lasted exactly five and a half seconds before she pulled away, releasing me, and sat down on the edge of her bed. "That's how I feel," she said in an almost-whisper. 


	6. Simple Clarification

A/N: This chapter is pretty fluffy-ish, until the end, where there's some swearing. Please, review, and then go read the next chapter.

"So... that's how you... you feel. That's it. That's... feel." I was babbling. Not just normal babbling. The kind of babbling that makes no sense, even when you try to decode it after it's said.

"You can say something else," Paige said. But my throat might have closed up, because I had to resort to gesturing at her, then the door, then myself. I don't even know what I was trying to say.

"Ellie?" Paige said nervously. I sat down quickly on the edge of her bed. That kiss... It was just a kiss, but it was _more_, and it was me and Paige, and I _needed_ to do it again. I swallowed, and tried my hand at this whole 'speaking' thing again.

"Can I kiss you again?" I asked. Paige never gave me that chance to kiss her. She leaned forward and closed the distance herself, taking one of my hands in hers. Our hands were exactly the same size, and she held our hands up so they stayed pressed together. And there was a knock on the door.

Paige yanked away from me, and I jumped to my feet. The heels of my boots almost got tangled in the edge of her blanket, which was hanging on the floor, but I didn't have time to free it before the door opened. The same blonde guy who'd been in the front hall stepped in.

"Hey Paige. And... Paige's friend," the guy said.

"Ellie, this is my brother Dylan. Dylan, this is my... Ellie," Paige said. She hadn't meant to say that, but she called me hers. I was, and I wanted to be, but she hadn't meant to say it. It made me wonder what I really am.

"Your Ellie? Ah. Nice to meet you, Paige's Ellie," said Dylan, shaking my hand. He was nice and all, but I wanted him to leave.

"Shut up, Dylan. And leave," Paige said. Dylan made this big show of leaving, taking his time shutting the door, like he thought he'd interrupted something big. Which he had. Paige locked the door after him.

"Come here," she said. It took me a second to realize that she'd moved away from the door and returned to her bed. She was lying down. Oh my—

"Come here," she repeated, moving over so there was room next to her. Oh. I lay down carefully next to her, like if I moved too quickly, she'd break. Or maybe I would.

"I've wanted to kiss you for a while now," she said quietly. I looked over at her. She was blushing, and was avoiding my eyes.

"How long?" I asked. I almost felt smug. No one's ever wanted any part of my before. Thank God Paige did.

"What about you? I mean, you have wanted to, right? It's not... It's not just me?" Paige asked hesitantly. I shook my head quickly.

"No, of course not. I mean, no it's not just you. I wanted to kiss you. I mean I still do. I have. For a long time," I said.

"We met yesterday," Paige said, smiling. She had taken my hand again, and was tracing the rings I had on my fingers.

"And it hasn't slowed you down either," I said. My voice was almost teasing. I never tease. I placed my other hand over Paige's, so there was a pile of hands in between us. It was slightly heavy, so I lowered my hand without thinking onto Paige's stomach.

This was what I would like to call a Very Bad Idea. You see, Paige's shirt had ridden up an inch or so, exposing some of her stomach. Enough to see her belly button ring. And my fingers were on her skin, and the pressure of her hand, and mine was weighing my bottom hand down, flat against her stomach, right next to the belly button ring. Paige stopped breathing almost, and I pulled my hand away. And it turned out to be a Very Good Idea, because Paige grabbed my arm and wouldn't let me. She turned sideways so that my hand was resting on her hip.

"Before I knew your name, I called you Pretty Girl," I said. Oh God. I hadn't said that out loud. I couldn't have. I didn't—

"You called me what?" Paige said. She was grinning at me. Her hair was curly today, and falling into her eyes. I pushed it back, just to give myself something to do, a way to avoid answering. When I couldn't ignore her any longer, I returned one hand to her hip and the other to both of her hands.

"It was just for a little while. It wasn't like some big stalker deal. I just didn't know your name, and my mind wouldn't register 'Hey you! With the clothes!', so it stuck on Pretty Girl. Only until the end of Kwan's class, when you gave me the note with your phone number," I said. Paige was smiling now, more to herself than me.

"I called you Ellie," she said.

"I never told you my name until I called," I said, surprised.

"I know," Paige said. She didn't elaborate. After a minute or so, she looked up, with almost puppy-dog like eyes. She sighed. "Promise not to laugh?" she said.

"No. But I'll try really hard," I said. Paige glared at me.

"You have to promise or I won't tell you, and you'll spend forever in suspense," she said. The odds of me not laughing were slim, but I wanted her to tell me. I hate not knowing things.

"I promise," I said. She sighed again.

"I kidnapped Marco after English and told him if he didn't tell me your name, I'd tell everyone about the time when he accidentally glued his hand to the wall when we were in preschool and cried because the teacher had to use hot water to get it off," she said in one breath. "We were both late to our next class," she added.

"You're kidding," I said. She shook her head no. I laughed. Laughed so hard I nearly fell off the bed, and Paige had to wrap an arm around me to save me from imminent death. When I finally managed to stop laughing, she didn't remove her arm.

Paige is nothing like me. At all. The only thing we have in common is the whole 'pierced belly button' thing, and us. I forgot everything I said right after I said it, but I managed to stay there for three hours on her bed, talking. I vaguely remember telling her all about Deanna, and my old school, and how much I hated it there. I think I told her about my dad being in the Army and having to go places a lot, and my mom's drinking problem. She told me about her friends and the school, and her family, and how her older brother Dylan, the one I'd met, was actually gay. But after a while, I knew my parents would probably noticed I was gone by now, and I had homework I had to do, if I didn't want to fail everything on my second day. Paige walked me to the front door, made sure Dylan was in another room, and kissed me again.

"I'll meet you tomorrow on the steps before school, okay?" she whispered.

"Okay," I said. She kissed me again, and I left. When I got home, I did all my homework and ate dinner, and had nothing to do and four hours before I should go to bed. I called Deanna again.

"Hello?" she said.

"It's Ellie," I said.

"Ellie? Hi. How are you?" Deanna asked.

"I'm fine. Actually I was wondering if you could give me some advice," I asked. I might have heard something in the background, but Deanna didn't mention it.

"Okay. What about?" she asked.

"Well, I met this person. They're really nice and I like them and all. And we kissed," I said.

"You kissed? Oh my god, El, that's so cool!" Deanna said. This was not Deanna. Deanna didn't squeal like that or say... unless there were other people there.

"Dee, are you alone?" I asked. There was a short pause.

"Yeeeeah, El. What, you think I have you on speakerphone at a party or something?" Deanna snorted. Okay, Ellie, stop being paranoid.

"Sorry. Anyway, so I really like them and all, but I'm not sure it can work. Because I called them and they hung up because there were other people there, and they blew me off when I tried to meet up with them. They're like, popular. And I'm not," I said.

"I don't know what you should do. But anyway, tell me about this guy. What's his name?" Deanna asked. I tapped my binder with a pen.

"It's not a guy, Dee. It's a girl, and her name is Paige," I said. I heard Deanna suck in a deep breath, and I heard laughing. I counted the voices. One... two... three... four. Four voices. Oh my God.

"Who else is there, Deanna?" I said.

"Um, you know Lexi, Shawna, and Carly, right? They were on the cheerleading squad?" Deanna giggled. Oh _shit_.

"Fuck you, Deanna," I said, and slammed the phone back in the cradle. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.


	7. This Is A Dream

A/N: This chapter is really angsty, and I'm trying to tie it back into the show now. By the way, thank you to all my loverly reviewers, especially the loyal ones, and to my loverly beta, who needs to write more of _Enchanted_.

I should have known. But I didn't think it would happen, and I didn't think when it did happen. Paige was sitting on the steps, waiting, just like she'd promised. And she was sitting with Hazel and Jimmy and Spinner. She looked at me when I reached the sidewalk, and laughed. It was at something Spinner had said, I think. And maybe I'm just lying to myself.

I straightened my back and walked towards her. She and the others didn't look up until I was right in front of them, and then they had to squint in the sunlight to look up at me.

"Hey Paige," I said as calmly as I could. Paige blinked at me, then at her friends. Hazel held her gaze and raised her eyebrows.

"Um, hello, Vampira. Can I help you with something?" Paige said. This is a dream this is a dream this is a dream.

"Paige," I said, staring at her in disbelief. Paige looked thoroughly annoyed now.

"What?" she said. This is a dream this is a dream this is a dream. I walked right past her, heading for the building.

"Oh, careful. Don't get too much sun. Vampires can't handle it, right?" I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around to stare at her. She was laughing, and Hazel was laughing, and Spinner was laughing, and Jimmy was laughing, and I heard it, but it couldn't be happening.

I saw Marco walking up, looking confused.

"What's going on, you guys?" he asked. This is a dream this is a dream this is a dream.

"Oh, nothing. Just recommending some health ideas to your creature of the night friend," Spinner said. And Paige laughed. This is a dream this is a dream this is a dream. I turned around and ran. The glass door was propped open, and good thing, because if it hadn't been, I would have gone right through it. I kept running, and ran to the girls' washroom I'd kept myself in when I'd written the note to get out of school. It was empty, but I still locked myself in the end stall and sat down, leaning back against the wall. This is a dream this is a dream this is a dream.

My backpack was digging into my spine, so I swung it off my shoulder. It hit the stall door and my pencil case fell out, scattering its' contents on the floor. I started to pick it up, because I was getting used to needing to bail when Paige was near me. I stopped. The compass was lying halfway on top of the calculator. It was the same one I'd had in my old school, with Deanna, and those cheerleaders, and her friends, and now I had it again with Paige, and her friends, and this school, and I picked it up and pressed it down against my forearm. I dragged the point across my arm, and it bled, and it hurt. And maybe, I thought, when I wiped away the blood and the hurt with a paper towel, when I put the compass back in my backpack, when I pulled my sleeve down over the cut, maybe this wasn't a dream after all.


	8. Aftershock Part 1

A/N: I'd hate for my loverly readers to lose interest, so I'm posting a sort of teaser chapter. Very short, less than a page, but it still affects what's going on. I'm going to start writing much more of Pretty Girl than I've been doing, and I hope you all will not murder me in my sleep for not updating. Also, thanks to the following people who have reviewed my story (several of you more than once):

MegTypeD, orange crush3, Sixela555, shaydra, Slayerwitch, EllieNSean4Eva, ssj-shark, Lavenderangel, bratgoddess88, amber-1134, Dense, Starry-Eyez888, Novicia, rollinx3, Goth-girl2, Sheena, Frito the Great, Avamaire, Veronica, Baddaboom95, smoothNcreamy, SHEENA, torian Princess, James, CoRoRST, TeenageStarlet, thelostmarble, and Obscured Illusions.

Also, thanks to my beta Firevega21. Everyone, go read Enchanted. And while you're at it, read Craving, by Romulus, because she's my sister and I've taken it upon myself to pimp her. Wow, this is long... anyway, enjoy.

She never tried to find me after what happened on the steps, and she never tried to apologize. I was the only one home when she called, and I was sitting on my bed with my English book in my lap.

"Ellie?"

"I don't want to talk to you," I said. I pulled up my sleeve and traced the cut. Traced the hurt.

"I know, and I'm sorry. What I did sucked," she said.

"It didn't just suck, Paige. You can never have any idea how much it sucked, because never has such a feeling of suck been experienced. Ever," I said.

"I know."

"No, you don't. Do you know the feeling you get when someone pulls out your heard and finds a way to turn it into glass just so they can throw it against a wall?" I asked.

"No."

"Then you'll never know how much it sucked. I don't really want to talk to you right now, okay?"

"Ellie, wait. I'm sorry. I promise I'll never do it again. I just... I just panicked. It'll never happen again," she said quickly. No. This wasn't happening. She couldn't be trying to get me back. I pressed down on my cut, and tingles of pain shot up my arm. I grabbed my English book and threw it across the room. I heard Paige flinch on the other end.

"How many times have you told me that, Paige? How many times?" I was yelling, thanking God that my parents weren't home, yelling, hurting, needing her, wanting her, and losing her all at the same fucking time.

"I said I was sorry!" Paige said.

"I don't care, Paige! I don't care how many times you say it, and I don't care what you want to do to be with me, and I don't care about you!"

The silence lasted a minutes, and then I started to cry. I choked it back until my throat hurt, and a soft sob came out. My entire body was shaking with it, and I wrapped my arms around my knees, still clutching the phone to my ear. I started to cry harder, struck with it. God. If we had ever been going out, we would have broken up already, and that was when I realized how much I need her.

The pale skin on my arm begged for attention, and the compass was lying on my bureau. I closed my eyes, wanted to drag it over my skin, wanted to hurt myself, wanted to break myself, want to do everything that she'd already done to me. I curled up in a ball under my sheets.

"I love you," I whispered.


	9. Aftershock PArt 2

A/N: Finally, a new chapter! There weren't that many reviews for the last chapter, but I technically said it was only a teaser, so I'll pretend that you all still love me. There's fluff, then it's like, WOAH, and then like, omg! and then like, CLIFFIE! Hehe… that made you want to read this less, didn't it?

"I love you too."

I snorted. Less than a second after hearing the girl I love tell me she loves me back, I should have done anything but snort. But I did.

"Sure you do, Paige," I said.

"I do, and that's the problem," she said. I gnawed on my thumb nail.

"It's a problem?" I said.

"Yeah. Because you're perfect, and you should be enough for me. And sometimes I think you are, but I know that I need people. Lots of people. And I care what they think of me. You know what would happen if people knew we were together at school. They'd do everything but kill us," Paige said. I pulled my hand away from my mouth.

"I wouldn't care if I had you," I said. Paige was silent for a minute. "You don't get me, do you?" I asked.

"I'm not sure anyone does," she said, and I could hear her smile in her voice.

"But you're not just anyone. You're my pretty girl," I said.

"I am? Even after everything I've done to you?" she said. I slipped a hand up my sleeve and touched the cuts gently.

"Yeah. And that's my problem. You can do whatever you want to me, but I still want you," I said.

"I know. And I want you too. I love you. But it's hard for me. It's hard for _us_. You just… need to let me be me, and us be us. Does that make sense?" Paige asked.

"No. But I know what you mean. We're together, but not together," I said.

"Yeah," she said softly. "So… are you okay with that? You won't hate me?"

"I'd never hate you," I whispered.

"So it can work?" she said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "It can work."

It couldn't work. It didn't. When I couldn't kiss her, I could taste her. And the taste made my heart ache, and my head pound, and, after a little help from my hands, my arms bleed. I shouldn't have been doing it. It was making me cut myself, and I should've stopped it. But I couldn't, because it kept me near her. And she kept me sane.

Sort of. There were cuts all over my arms, and I was making myself bleed at every opportunity. But I'd have been bleeding every chance anyway, and as long as I was with her, there was less of a chance. She'd made me hurt in the first place, but she was the only thing to keep me _from_ hurting.

My cell phone rang at midnight, two weeks after the original phone call. She was one of the few people who had the number (along with Marco, my parents, and a few people from my old school who I'd never see again). I answered it.

"Paige?" I whispered.

"Who else would call you in the middle of the night?" she whispered back.

"Someone with a death wish. Did you call me for a reason?" I asked.

"I love you," Paige whispered.

"Good reason," I said, settling back into bed. "Is that it?"

"Yeah. And to ask if you could meet me at the east door the day after tomorrow after school?" Paige said.

"Tomorrow meaning today, since it's midnight, or tomorrow meaning the actual tomorrow?" I asked.

"The actual tomorrow. I know what time it is, Ellie Nash," she said. I yawned.

"You're keeping me up too late. I'll be there the day after tomorrow," I said, and I hung up. Of course, I hadn't known that Paige wouldn't be early to school as usual to see me. I hadn't known she wouldn't be with me. I hadn't known she'd be sitting with Spinner the first time I saw her. She glanced at me, then back at Spinner. I made my way inside to the girls' washroom, rolled up my sleeve, and dug the compass out of my backpack. One little line, and everything was okay again. I knew it was real, I knew this was just how things were going to go. I rested the heels of my hands on the edge of the sink and closed my eyes. The door opened. I looked over. Paige was standing there. I stared at her. She stared back. Not at me, though. Down further. I followed her gaze down to my arm. My sleeves were still pushed up.

A/N: Reviewers will receive cookies. And coffee. And Chee-tos. I heart Chee-tos.


	10. Crash and Burn

A/N: I doubt anyone even checks for new Pretty Girl chapters anymore, but I just recently got a very enthusiastic review that made me feel all cuddly inside. And I realized even if I move onto different fandoms and pairings, Pellie and Pretty Girl are the things that started me, so I'm not gonna just drop it. I present to you, ladies and gentlemen, the final chapter of Pretty Girl. Ever. So don't ask for more.

This chapter is dedicated to L neils, who gave me a great review and inspired me to finish off the story.

"What happened to you?" Paige asked. I swallowed quickly and pulled down my sleeve.

"It's nothing," I said. I grabbed my backpack off the sink and headed for the door. Paige grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me back.

"Ow! Paige, what are you doing?" I said. She was pressing the fabric of my shirt directly into the cuts, and it hurt.

"I want to know the same thing. What did you do to your arm?" she demanded.

"Nothing!" I said.

"Show it to me!"

"It's nothing!"

She grabbed my wrist and pulled up my sleeve. She stopped fighting me, but didn't let go. She just stood there and stared. I tried to step back, but she still wasn't moving.

"Paige, let go of me," I said. She didn't move, just kept staring like I was a freak show. I couldn't help it. I started to cry.

"Ellie," she said softly.

"Don't!" I said loudly, squeezing my eyes shut. "Don't use that voice, don't act like you actually care!"

"Of course I care, Ellie," she said, stunned. I shoved her back.

"No you don't, or you wouldn't make me do it. You wouldn't be all pretty smiles and nice words to everyone in the school except for me! You wouldn't hurt me, and you wouldn't make me hurt me!" I shouted. She just wouldn't stop staring. I pushed past her out of the washroom, and didn't trust myself enough to let myself look back.

"Hey, you've reached Paige. I'm not here, so leave a message." A long beep, then silence. I hung up, then dialed again. "Hey, you've reached Paige. I'm not here, so leave a message."

Click. I reached over to my bedside table for the compass and placed it on the bed in front of me. Dialed again, listened, and hung up. I still felt that vague flicker of hope that had been living in me for the past day. She was there. The east door, just like she promised. That was why she wasn't picking up, it had to be.

I scrambled to my feet and changed quickly into the red and black skirt I was wearing that first day and a long-sleeved gray shirt. I was practically giddy, and I didn't bother to tell my mom where I was going as I left. I ran to the school and settled myself at the east doorway. And waited.

The second I sat down I realized I was slipping deep into denial. There was no way she was showing up, not after what I said to her. Because even though it was her fault I hurt, it wasn't her fault I hurt… myself. And I had to realize it after that happened. Of course. She wasn't coming for me. I had had her, and then I blew it. She was perfect, and now she was gone, and she was beautiful, and now she wasn't mine. I wondered if she ever really was.

A pair of light brown shoes appeared in front of me. I raised my eyes from the pavement and slid them up a pair of legs, a torso, a neck. Paige stared down at me, looking nervous.

"You still came," she said. I nodded. If I spoke, my heart would explode and I'd die from just being with her. She sat down next to me.

"I had this big extravagant things planned, but I guess there isn't much point in that. You don't seem to be in the mood for sweet and romantic," she said.

"Why are you here?" I asked. My voice sounded thick and wet even to me, and I knew I was about to cry again.

"Because I love you. And I'm not really sure what that means for us. I've never had a girlfriend before. But I know it doesn't mean letting you fall apart," she said. She pushed up my sleeve without hesitation and slid her palm across the scars, down my arm, and laced her fingers with mine.

"You're wasting your time, Paige," I said. I untangled our fingers and crossed my arms.

"No I'm not," she said, reaching for my hand, but I snapped it back.

"Stop," I said. She glared at me.

"Ellie, you're not getting rid of me. I'm not sure how I'm gonna help you, and I'm not sure if I can, but I'm going to find someone who can. You and I are together in this, okay? We're together, and I'm going to stay here for you, and if you wanna crash and burn, then I'm going to be right here with you while you do it. You're not alone anymore, Ellie, so stop trying to convince yourself you are. You have me, so deal with it," she said. She was fuming. Livid. Pretty. I leaned over and kissed her. She moved to touch my face, but I pulled away and leaned back against the wall.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and settled me into the crook of her arm. I started to cry.

"I can't do it, Paige. I can't stop," I said.

"Don't say that. You can, and you're going to. You're okay, Ellie," she said. She kissed my hair and rested her head against mine. And softly, she whispered, to me, to herself, to everything, "We're okay."

-Fin-

A/N: Now that Pretty Girl is complete, I would like to take this time to thank some people. First and foremost, my reviewers. You guys are so awesome, and I wouldn't have done even two chapters of this story if not for you guys. So thanks. Second, Firevega21, who has been my beta for almost the entire story. Third, I feel I should thank the creators of Degrassi and whoever wrote 'Whisper To A Scream', because that episode was just SO Pellie that it hurt. And I also thank Lauren Collins and Stacey Farber for having fantastic chemistry and for being pretty. Even though I hate SeasonFour!Paige. Also, thanks to anyone who read this far in the author's note. You have incredible stamina, because I know this is godawfully boring. Thank you. -- KinseySix


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